


A Test of Resilience

by Biophosphoradelecrystalluminescence



Category: Homestuck
Genre: abusive!bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:02:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biophosphoradelecrystalluminescence/pseuds/Biophosphoradelecrystalluminescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave was raised by his Bro, who made his childhood a living Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Test of Resilience

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write this for a while now but only got to it today. Enjoy!

You're eighteen, freshly an adult, when he comes crashing into your life. The meteor he rides down to earth on crushes the small record store, leaving only cinders behind. You climb into the steaming crater and lift up a baby. His bright red eyes burn straight through your soul when he looks at you. You place a spare pair of shades on his face, pick up the corpse of a horse he rode down with, and make your way back to the apartment.

That is when his training begins.

You start small, placing him on the futon and leaving a jar of his food on the floor across the room. Not hard at all. You actually feel like you should start a little harder but you want to show him a little mercy. However, the small child only sits on the futon, staring at you through the shades too big for his face. You decide that you're distracting him from feeding himself and leave Cal to supervise.

You come back twenty minutes later when you hear a crash and a baby's cry. The boy is lying on the floor, tears streaming down his face and a large bump on his head. You walk over to him and flip him onto his front again and chastise him for crying over such a minor injury. He ignores you and continues crying.

He has failed his first training test. He can't feed himself, so you guess Cal can do it. This will be the first, last and only time he will be assisted in feeding himself, though.

You sit him on the futon again and put the jar of food and a spoon in Cal's hands. The kid refuses until you have Cal hold him down.

* * *

 

A week later, you have decided that he has improved enough that you can step up his training. You bring him up to the roof. He needs to learn what true fear is. You toss him from one side of the roof to the other, catching him at the last possible minute. He wails the entire time and clings onto you for dear life once you're done. He buries his face into your shoulder, grasping your shirt in his fat baby hands.

You carry him back down to the apartment and dump him onto the futon. He cries when you walk away, but you simply put on your headphones and ignore him. He needs to learn how to be independent, after all.

* * *

 

He is two years old when you begin training him with weapons. You start him off with some throwing knives. His fingers are clumsy and his aim is terrible, but with some practice he becomes more comfortable with them. After that, you give him a shuriken, then a sai, then a shitty katana.

By age three, he is covered in cuts, bruises and scars. He is still clumsy with all your weapons and you push him every day to become stronger, but you have seen little to no improvement. He can't protect himself from even the simplest of attacks from you. Maybe you're not pushing him hard enough. You decide to up his regimen.

* * *

 

By his fifth birthday, there is not an inch of his body that isn't marked in some way. You can see his bones through the thin layer of skin covering him, but he needs to learn how to fend for himself. You won't be there to cater to him forever. If he needs food, he needs to find it for himself.

It occurs to you one day that he is old enough now that he should be registered in school, but he needs to train for his future. It would be difficult to put him in school anyway since he doesn't exist according to the government, and you're not willing to put in the effort to fix that.

So you continue to beat him to a pulp every day, and ignore him whenever you're not. He doesn't outright complain about anything and you assume that means he is okay with it.

* * *

 

He is eight now. He hasn't grown very big since his body uses all its energy to repair the smattering of wounds across his skin. Every bone in his body is visible from the outside and his limbs could easily be compared to twigs. He can barely speak because you haven't ever bothered to teach him any English. He knows the very basics, such as "Bro, strife" and the name of Cal and his favourite drink. You figure you should speak to him more so he can learn better communication skills, but old habits die hard. He's eight. He should be able to figure this shit out by himself by now, anyway.

* * *

 

When he turns ten, you give him a computer. It's old and can only run Paint, Pesterchum and (on good days) Internet Explorer. You've taken the liberty of adding the people he needs to talk to on Pesterchum already so he can get a head start on talking to them. You walk in on him one day to initiate another strife and see him sounding out the words in a message from John.

"GT: so, what's your name?"

You get him a dictionary.

* * *

 

He's twelve now and he's grown very close to John, Jade and Rose. He has also become more distant with you. You've always been distant, but he's more wary than normal around you now. You become angry that he isn't more appreciative of his training. Have his friends prepared at all for the game? Of course not. There is no way they're ready. He is, though. He can fight. He can defend himself. He can be the hero he's destined to be.

* * *

 

At thirteen, the world ends. Meteors pour from the sky like rain. You watch him scale the apartment to get through the portal. You know he can make it through the game in one piece, and then maybe you can apologize for everything.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't really edited so I'm sorry for any awkward moments or bad grammar... Thanks for reading, though! (I might write a second part from Dave's POV but I'm not totally sure yet)


End file.
